Vault Relics
by Historyman 14
Summary: The Legion is no more. From Shandy Sands to New Vegas and Flagstaff, many fight over the legacy of Caesar. One man of the fallen Legion goes east, to Colorado, to rise a new nation from the chaos. Here, he and his friends find a gift from the Old World.


**(OOC: I do not own Fallout, only this story and the ideas around it. Enjoy.)**

 **2284\. Glenwood Springs, Four States Commonwealth.**

He took a slip of water as he survey the town and his convoy. Humvees and motorcycles, pickups, carriages and carts pulled by horses, brahmins, and other beasts of burden. The women water the animals, and take care of children, while the men kept watch over the locals, resupply their provisions, and kept their vehicles running. The air was mild and cool, a soft kiss on the skin like in the spring, with the sandstone cliffs and various hot springs surround the city truly making it sight to behold.

 _"Places and times like this makes me wise I was never a part of the old Legion, that they never came to my home, just setter down away from the Wasteland troubles, but I have no regents thus far."_ Aeneas thought as he read reports from his officers. So far, there been little trouble from the locals since they came here.

Most of the locals had been more curious of them than fearful. Everyone had, of course, _heard_ of 'Caesar's Legion' and the terror that they had once bought down of the region, but beyond a few scouts and the raids on Grand Junction, they had never even traveled to this side of the region. The Legion tended to focus more on the central portions of Colorado, despite all the pains and death that it inflicted on the Legion. Hell, the locals had never even seen the Legion in person. So when they entered into town from Utah and proclaimed the town was hereby 'place under temporally occupation' to rest and resupply, they didn't know what to think. Yes, a few shot at them, and ran off to the many caves to 'hold out', and Aeneas sent some of his men to root them out, but besides that... it was calming.

To the immense surprise of the locals, Aeneas's Legion was not the bloodthirsty slavers who roved the wastelands, but men and women who simply were trying to get away from the infighting of the former Legion, and were willing to be on their 'best behavior'. As of now, they were almost ready to head out, maybe within a day or so, as they mapped out the next leg of the journey eastward. Anyone willing to join was more then welcome as long as they had something to offer and work for their share. Already, they had those from Fruita (the Dino tribe had been the most notable in recruits) and and Rifle joined them on the way west. He could feel Denver and Colorado Springs and couldn't wait to see them. But he must not get ahead of himself.

While reading how much of the old trains they could still salvage, he was shaken from his thoughts when his radio transceiver went off. _"Boss, it's Fargo. We found something by the hotel down here. A vault, and it's never been open."_ Aeneas' eyebrows lifted as he turn, and spoke to Fargo. "This better not be a joke. You saying there's a vault down here? What, Vault-Tec?"

 _"Not Vault-Tec boss. Just come down here, and bring that Pip-Boy before iron for brains tries and blow it open!"_

XXX.  
 **  
Outside the Hotel Colorado.**

"So...it's never been open."

"Judging by the dust, and the godawful smell when we crack the wall down, no sir boss."

"Anyone else know about this?"

"No. We ask the folks here, but they're just as surprised as we are."

"I don't get it. Just give me a few Fat Mans, and I open this can for you."

Fargo resisted the urge to slap Bear upside the head. Then again, Bear could break him in two with only half a hand, so better not risk it. Fargo himself was a small man who hated the cold from Northern California, and jack of all trade this side of New Reno, while Bear was a six foot four deathclaw of a man, never seen out of his T-51 power armor helmet, and who could beat 50 men to death with his bare hands, and anything with a pointy tip.

"Because, my dear Watson, vaults was made to survive nukes of all shapes and sizes. Even if Vault-Tec didn't built this one, I doubt you even scratch it. But you _would_ blow this whole building sky high..."

Aeneas wanted to slap them both to shut it, but stopped himself. "Enough, both of you. Fargo, you told me you needed my Pip-boy to open it. Can it?"

"Oh yes sir. I already hotwired that console over here, but I need that Pip-boy to finish the job, and crack this baby open."

Aeneas shrugged. He trusted Fargo - well, as much as he could throw him - and plugged his Pip-boy into the console. The Pip-boy whirred and chirped that it had gained access. There was a low _thunk_ and the rusty door that had been closed for hundreds of years creaked open, rolling inwards and then to the side. A catwalk lay before then as the lights flicked on one by one.

"Well, ladies first."

"Oh, you're a laugh Aeneas."

The three went off into... the vault that was. Down a hallway, and stairs, the group came to an atrium. The atrium was dark, the lights off and Aeneas could tell a few of the lightbulbs had been shattered, but it was safe. "Anyone got a light? I left my flamethrower outside..."

"Bear..."

A flip of a switch and the lights came to life. And all three was left shock. Lines of statues in rows, art and portraits that had been stood up, various wooden and metal crates, books and models. It was like walking into museum that hadn't finished unpacking

"Sweet digs."

"You could say that again." The group spend out, each other works once thought lost to the Great War, and to the unforgiving Wasteland. In the central of the room was Mars himself in all his glory, standing tall and proud before all. There was even a small plaque denoting the figure's name.

"So...you're the one... Caesar claims to be your son... really dropped the ball on that one." Aeneas spoke to the statue, as if he was truly speaking a God of the Romans.

"I don't get it... this some kind of... time capsule?" Fargo lifted a fine rococo vase... to only drop it. The vase nearly shattered into bits before Bear saved it with ease, putting it back on the crate.

"..."

"Oh don't you look at me like that!"

"Hmm...look at this..." A holodisk, standing out like a sore thumb on a crate. Aeneas took it, place into the Pip-Boy, and play it for all to hear.

 _"Testing, testing, one, two..."_ A voice of a man. A voice of the Old World was speaking to them. _"My name is Robert John Garfield. Dr. Robert John Garfield. I am a historian and the_ _assistant_ _curator of the Smithsonian Institution... or what was the Smithsonian Institution at this point. If you are wondering what this place is, this is the result of years of work. The fevered haste to save the treasures of civilization before they were lost. A childhood dream of mine, actually. To see the treasures of civilizations long gone. We have lost much at this point. I feel I should tell you when... the date is November 1, 2077._

 _"When the Middle East was burning, Europe went under, and then the Warsaw Pact went rough, I and a few of my colleagues went to the President to put together a task force to save vast quantities of artwork and other culturally significant items from destruction or looters. Thankfully, the President agreed with us. We did a lot of good, but nothing good last for very long. Things got worst...the PRC invaded Alaska, we took over Canada, riots and civil unrest all over the US, putting the fires in the Caribbean out. I knew things was going to get worse and worse, so I had been secretly moving items from our own museums and art galleries, to one of many vaults like this with everything else we recover. Many good men, good friends, died saving what you see now._

 _...Boulder is...gone...Denver...Fort Collins...Pueblo...all have been reported hit before the radios went off. I don't what to think about the fate of Washington, New York, Chicago, or even Las Vegas and LA. I am the only one of my team, everyone else is dead from the radiation or went missing in the nuclear exchange. I don't know where they are. I don't know if they survived and managed to escape to another Vault. I don't know who you might be, or when this will be discovered, but I beg you, do not let this be forgotten. Learn when we went wrong, learn from the deeds and mistakes of the old days, then maybe it would have been worth it..."_

The holodisk message ended, as Aeneas took a seat on a crate, looking over the books around him. These were books. These... these had an air to them. Books like the Personal Memoirs of Ulysses S. Grant. The Red Badge of Courage. A copy of Frankenstein. The works of William Blake and John Keats. The Canterbury Tales. The Tempest. The Comic History of Rome, and more. His eyes went up, seeing another statue against the wall, next to Mars. Ceres, Goddess over the agriculture, the harvest, and the seasons. He could feel as if the statue was alive, if Ceres, and Mars, of the portraits of James Polk, Ulysses, Theodore Roosevelt, William Taft, all was eyeing him, staring him down, asking the question...

"So...boss, what now? Aeneas said nothing, only to jump from his crate, books in hand, and make his way to the stairs, before stopping, and said this.

"Tell the men we have some things that need to be moved. We're taking it. All of it. Oh, speak with the mayor about letting some of our forces stay." And with that, he walk up, leaving the two to only look at each other.

"The hell you think got into him?" Fargo ask leaning back, _again_ knocking the vase over, and again it was saved by Bear, placing it away from the man and next to a model of some Pirate ship, the _Queen Anne's Revenge_.

"...Really?"

"...I hate you a lot, you know?"


End file.
